Crashing In: The World Games
by SomeDays
Summary: The War to end all wars. A constant nightmare. A source of entertainment. The World Games are many things, but it will all change when reality comes crashing in for 24 unlucky individuals in the tenth annual games held in Australia. Set in the year 3,138, twelve countries, twenty four tributes, six continents, will battle it out. Let the games begin. (TWO SPOTS REOPEN- MESSAGE ME)
1. Ignorance is Bliss

**Prologue One:**

* * *

" _The pros and cons of truth_

 _The rumour and the myth_

 _The misconception_

 _That our ignorance is bliss."_

* * *

 **Ignorance is Bliss: Prologue, Part One**

* * *

 **United Kingom, Year: 3,136**

 **Jayanne Bykes, 17**

Closing my eyes, I can see far into the ocean. The sun beams down onto the crystal clear ripples, leaving a glow amongst the waves. The tide tickles my toes as it travels along the golden beach. Gulls swoop down in a cry, hunting for food. I just stand there, still, silent, allowing the salty ocean air consume me. The reality is just as breathtaking as I open my eyes, but maybe for different reasons. It's dark. The waves aren't clear. The tide carries a number of lifeless creatures along the muddy, brown sand, and I no longer feel at peace.

It's like something from a horror film. Only, I've seen it about five hundred times. It no longer scares me, it just leaves a hollow sadness in my soul.

I sigh and back away from the ocean's edge, picking up my backpack as I leave. I don't know why I enjoy coming out here, beyond the wall, in the so-called ' _danger zone'_. Some youths come here for the risk of danger, others come here as a way to break the law, and me? Every time I come, I do the same thing. I picture the world for how it once was, I imagine its beauty. The beauty of our gated society is a mere a lie. It's fake. But from simply hearing the stories from the older generations, I know the world was once a beautiful place, no matter how much evil was in it.

"Jay-"I jump at the sound of his voice, but smile when I see his face. Before me is a beautiful excuse of a human being. With his golden hair, squared jaw, and deep brown eyes that I could stare into for hours, Hanson Myers, is enough to make any girl go weak at the knees. He smirks. "You know, one of these days another guard will find you out here, and then what will you do?"

Pulling my pack onto my shoulders, I give an innocent shrug of the shoulders and put on my best puppydog-eye impression. " _Oh sir, I was just lost. A big scary man was chasing me and I didn't know where to go."_

He laughs that low same low and sexy laugh. "Yeah, sure, cos _that_ would work."

"You best believe it," I say. I give him a cheeky wink before dipping away.

"Erm..." he begins. But I am gone before he can say another word. However hot that man is, it's fun to keep him guessing.

I sneak through a gap in the wall and enter the world of legality and fake-ass grass. It is so different to the world I just left. There's no death. There's no disaster. It's all a lie, like a big old fairytale-cartoon with bright colours and plastic plants. Some countries don't have this. Some places such as South Africa, Zimbabwe and Australia have real grass and real open spaces. You see, their ancestors weren't stupid enough to get themselves blown up.

At least we're not as bad as 90% of the world. At least we're still alive.

On my hoverboard, I glide down the white-as-snow pavements, passing hundreds of people chatting away on their devices but not daring to make eye contact with anyone else, but that's just the society we live in. A society that can't look another person in the eye and smile, but can watch kids kill each other on national TV, and, as much as I hate to admit it, I'm just as bad as the rest.

As I reach the central park, I notice my arm lighting up; Jana is calling me. With a sigh, I stop and answer the call. Her large smile bursts out of my watch as she sings 'helooooo' like she always does.

I give a small smile. "Hi Jan."

She furrows her perfectly aligned brows together as she pushes a part of her dark, curly hair out of her golden face. "What's gotten you in a mood?"

I laugh. "I'm not!"

"Hmm hmmm, sure. Anyway, you still coming over tonight for the finale? We have popcorn! And bear, but we know it's all about the popcorn." She winks.

"I don't know, I'll have to see."

"Ugh, you're such a bum. Jake's going to be thereeee!"

I raise my brow. "Good for him."

"Come on Jay! He's perfect for you."

"Whatever you say."

"Just you wait missy! I'm gonna prove this! And then I'll wipe that smirk right off your face."

"Ok ok Jan. I'll see you at seven then."

Her large grin grows even wider at that, but before she can carry of wittering about something else I sing a quick goodbye before hanging up on her.

I almost immediately get a text from her. _You're still definitleyyy a bum_

 _Love you really,_ I respond.

Ever since hearing about the beautiful guard, Hanson, Jana has been trying to set me up with any guy that breathes. She thinks Hanson is too old for me and- well- technically he is, but only just. This time next year, everything will be perfect.

Just as I am about to leave, the notice board in front of me flashes and changes into a Hunger Games poster. They litter the streets. They are on every wall, signpost, and notice board. They are in every cafe, and on every channel. There's no escaping it. The new poster reads _One Vicious Girl, One Intelligent Boy, and One Big Surprise. Only One Can Win. Who Will it Be?_

I roll my eyes. _Dramatic much?_

My bets are on the South African girl.; the vicious one. Though, from the looks of things most people are betting on the Alaskan boy; the surprise. Heaven knows why, all he did was kill a guy with a higher training score.

The board changes again,back to some nonsense iPhoneAX20 advert. Who even has a phone anymore?

I take that as my cue to leave.

With one more look around the park, I hop on my board. Someone sends me a conversation request along the way, but I quickly ignore it. As much as I love the truth and awareness, sometimes ignorance really is bliss.

.

* * *

" _The answer's circle  
While the questions just revolve  
_ _We all rotate  
_ _And leave it all to lie unsolved"_

* * *

 **True about love- Right Said Fred.**

* * *

 **A/N:** SYOT details can be found on my bio. Deadline: 10th May 2017

I really wanted to play around with the concept of The Hunger Games in a society which is somewhere between the Capitol and the Districts, where they see the games as entertainment, but also have a risk of getting reaped themselves and thus the world games. A backstory and all the information you may want to know can be found on my blog (linked in my bio and down below). Yeah, I've put quite a lot of work into this.

Basically. 18 year olds. All reaped. No Volunteers. Zimbabwe, South Africa, Argentina, Chile, Alaska, Canada, Greece, United Kingdom, Japan, India, Australia, and New Zealand. Other than that, it's your basic SYOT/ SYOC. Have fun. Make cool characters. Woo.

Till next time babes, bai.

 **Website: crashinginhg . weebly . com**


	2. Little Did They Know

**Prologue 2:**

* * *

 _"Little do you know_  
 _I'm trying to pick myself from piece by piece_  
 _Little do you know_  
 _I need a little more time"_

* * *

Little Did They Know: Prologue, Part Two

* * *

 **United Kingdom. Year 3,137**

 **Hanson Myers, 22**

* * *

How strange is it that, in just a moment, everything can change?

Sitting here in this cold, dark, empty room, all I can think about is how truly alone I am. My armour is gone and I am here, a mere man of the law- or rather- on the other side of the law. I drag my sweaty palms down my face and all I can do is utter out a swear. It's not fair. None of it is. A glow of light peaks through the barred windows, shining bright in my eyes. Every natural instinct in my body wants to pull away, but I cannot for my feet and arms are chained to this chair. I would close my eyes, but then, I am disallowing myself the view of the open skies. I don't know how long I have been here. I lost count after five days. The minutes roll into ours, and the hours roll into days. My eyes have begun to droop and it feels like too much energy to even offer a smile.

The bump of feet climbing down the stair echoes above me and, with a deep exasperated breath, I prepare myself for whatever comes next. Austin turns the corner holding a small box- a TV box. I shake my head. "No."

"I- I thought you may want to see this." He places it down and- as I thought- The Hunger Games displays itself before me. I narrow my eyes and stare at him, hate filling my body. The thing is, if I was not chained to this chair, I could take him out in one swift punch. He's lucky.

"You thought wrong. Take it away."

He shook his head. "I can't. _They_ want you to see it."

"It was just a stupid protest."

"Exactly. You will be released and put back on guard duty once the games are over. Or..." he gives a small smirk. "Until she dies."

Then, he leaves without saying another word and my whole body shakes as memories enter my mind. I don't know whether to smile or ro scream. She always used to do that. She'd leave before you could even respond- before you had time to think. It was one of my favourite things about her. Although, this situation is rather different. I am not free and happy, and Austin is _definitely_ not a pretty girl.

The timer begins and the tributes prepare. It's set in a safari- no surprise there. The dessert spreads out far beyond the eye can see. The camera pans around to show the animals waiting for them. Some tributes look hungry for murder. Some look scared to death. And then, there's her. She stares into the camera, and for some, it would be hard to read her face, but I _know_ this girl and I _know_ she's afraid, she just doesn't want to show it. Her eyes glimmer with tears as veins pulse by forehead. She nervously bites her lips.

I grit my teeth together, I want to look away, I want to close my eyes, but I can't. I need to _know._

The timer comes to an end, and the horn sounds. The tributes rush. There's a clang of metal as people reach the cornucopia. There is the sound of screams. I try to keep my eyes on the small ginger girl, but I lose her too often. Blood begins to splatter. Tributes begin to fall. She's gone. She isn't on the screen. Instead, they are focussing on the Greek guy as he pushes himself through the others, trying to get an upper hand. My heart pumps hard against my chest as I wait to see her again, I look into the background, seeing if I can see a spot of ginger. I can't.

It seems like forever untill I see her again and, when I do, it's only a glimpse.

Fear breaks through her face.

 _She turns._

 _She screams._

 _The knife enters her stomach._

 _Blood. There's s_ _o much blood._

And then, she's gone. Forever.

I close my eyes, taking in a long, deep breath. She's gone. "SHE'S GONE!"

My voice echoes around the small room, sending shivers down my spine.

I think back to the many times I found her outside the wall. I should have turned her in, but I didn't. She had a special hold on me. She was strange, and not like so many others. Sure, she loved the games like most of society, but she questioned society as well. She questioned herself. She was...special and she didn't deserve this.

A single tear falls from my eye.

 _Who'd've thought hey?_ Who would have thought that Jayanne Bykes, the girl who, at seventeen would drunk call me from a party, even though her parents _just_ about allowed us to chat, would be here. Who would have thought she would be reaped for the Hunger Games, and would die at the hands of some other kid.

She placed 22nd. She died in the first ten minutes.

Little did I know that, when I was putting off talking to her because of some stupid law, that I wouldn't have that time after.

We had two months worth of talking, but that was it. I never really got to know exactly who that rebellious girl was and now, because of something we call 'entertainment' and 'justice, I never will.

Little did I know. Little did she know.

How on earth did it get like this?

* * *

 **A/N: BOOM. Yeah, I wrote that prologue in the space of an hour. Hopefully it's still ok. I just really wanted to get the tribute list out, and that's what you're all here for. Anyway, if you _did_ actually read that, gimme your oppinions will ya. **

**ANYWAY tribute list! Yeah, so I had lije 50000 (exaggeration) tributes for North America (surprise surprise) and a few other countries had like 3/4 submissions. So, I played around with it a lil bit and focused more on who would make good dynamics from the countries and stuff. So yeah, I tried to keep it similar to what it was sent, BUT you may find your british tribute now lives in india (like literally, that is a thing) but hey! ALSO, sorry if I didn't accept you, got a lot of submissions. I have accepted more than one from a couple buuut that was because I needed men. So, yay. Apologies. Don't hate me. Anyway! LIST!**

 **South Africa:**

Female: Claudia Larkspur (AmericanPi)  
Male: Kwanele Demarco (hollowman96)

 **Zimbabwe:**

Female:Amahle 'Ama' Nkosi (recklessinparadise)  
Male: Jabari Igwe (Elim9)

 **Japan:**

Female: Fujisaki Akira (ChocoDeeDee)  
Male: Akihito Tachibana (ReaderCastellan)

 **India:**

Female: Mona Naz Binding (Jcuret98)  
Male: Barnaby Hodge (Elim9)

 **Australia:**

Female: Serenity Thompson (DaughterofTigris)  
Male: Flynn Huston (LokiThisIsMadness)

 **New Zealand:**

Female: Clio Tansey (sock-feet-and-stirring-sand)  
Male: Oliver O'Connor (ThomasHungerGamesFan)

 **Greece:**

Female: Viviana Maria Giancarlo (paperairline)  
Male: Ares Buros (SexyBonBon)

 **United Kingdom**

Female: Aurora Thompson (Axe Smelling God)  
Male: Charles Land (AmericanPie)

 **Alaska**

Female: Ardeth Tyrell (Alice Kingsleighs)  
Male: Jack Bryer (TitanMaddix)

 **Canada**

Female: Caroline Pardy (IVolunteerAsAuthor)  
Male: Javael Evans (Deactivate 28363737)

 **Argentina:**

Female: Kimora Blac-Newell (ThatPart)  
Male: Vincente Otera (CreativeAJL)

 **Chile:**

Female: Mara Kesselrin (TranscendentElvenRanger)  
Male: Augustin Hidalgo (Singlewave)

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you to those who submitted! :* There is a serpate blog for the tributes because why not.** **Check it out, would also be awesome if you left me a blog review. Gotta love those. Just tell me what you think of them based on their blog posts. Also, to explain! The prediction is what is given by the game makers, so they look at who the tribute is at the start and predict by appearance mostly and how they act.**

 **Betting Ranks is something that I started with in Fear of Falling. It's a bit of fun and will be updated as we go through the story. Pretty much. It's regarding what the audience watching the games think of the tributes and who's betting on who and stuff like that. (SO, it's about likability more than strength) BUT Both mean nothing haha. Numero 24 can surpise youse.**

 **BLOG REVIEWS YAY! Have fun. And I AM DONE WITH UNIVERSITY! so next chapter shouldn't bee toooo far away ;P**

 **Tribute blog!:** **h t** **t p : / / crashingintributes . weebly**


	3. A Letter: Chapter 1

**Chapter 1:**

* * *

 _"I look into the window of my mind_

 _Reflections of the fears I know I've left behind_

 _I step out of the ordinary_

 _I can feel my soul ascending2_

* * *

 **A/N: OK. I am alive. Apologies may be in order? PLEASE READ THISSS.**

 **Basically, things went a little crazy this summer and I wasn't in the right mental space to read, or write or do anything. BUT, I'm ok now. Everything is fine. So, I have a chapter for you! I am only doing short, two POV chapters, because I don't like reading long chapters nor do I like writing long chapters soo woola. I was going to do three POVS, but just as I finished this chapter, I had a couple of people withdraw their tributes. THEREFORE, I have a couple openings, I'm looking for a male from India and a female from South Africa. If you're interested message me! AND if anyone else wants to withdraw, now is your chance to tell me.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: A Letter**

* * *

 **Amahle "Ama" Nkosi | Female | Zimbabwe**

The cool water splashes up, shocking my warm face as the cooling sensation spreads down to my cheeks. The water roars into the basin as I bring another handful to my mouth, allowing the coolness to trickle down my hoarse throat.

The mirror tells me it's gone ten am. I'm late. I sigh and allow the water to wash away the sweat from my cheeks.

Looking into the mirror, averageness reflects back at me, as well as a growing blue mark below my right eye. I wince as I prod the bruise and a sharp pain rockets through my cheek. I hiss a curse under my breath as I dab the blueness with more cold water in a lame attempt to cool the pain.

'Amahle, you are looking radiant today' the mirror utters under old, static sounds. I roll my eyes and shut down the electronics with a slide of my fingertips. 'Radiant' they say. _Yeah right._ I look tired, hurt, fed up, anything far from radiant. I try offering a smile, but it's all the same.

Turning off the sink, I air dry my hands and bring a towel to my face, dabbing off the moisture. Suddenly, my wrist lights up. Usually, I simply ignore any notification, but today, my wrist lights up a bright red shade which makes me drop the towel and answer the call immediately. Red means Pano, and Pano means _hell to the yes._ Pano's face replaces my reflection in the mirror and his large smile diminishes the dullness of the room.

"Where you at girl? Your father's been out in the field for hours," he laughs.

My large lips curl into a smirk. "I'm going, I'm going. I had to help Mum with breakfast."

He nods. "Of course." His dark eyes squint together as he examines my face. The tops of my cheeks begin to heat as his eyes prowl over my features. My heartbeat quickens and I glance away in discomfort. A long, awkward silence passes in the air and I don't know whether to say something, to laugh or to cower in fear, so I just stand there like the tense statue I am.

Finally, he leans back in his chair and a hissing sound escapes through his teeth. "Youch, what did you do this time?"

"Cut the grain wrong." I laugh. "Same old, same old."

Pano shakes his head. "Tut tut missy."

"What can I say? I'm a terrible daughter."

He laughs. "Anyway you, get your butt to work and then come over later, ok? I'm making chicken!"

I nod. "I'll be there."

Then, his face disappears and I'm left with looking at that same old, angled face which is shaped by dark, straight hair and high cheekbones. I give myself another small smile. ' _Come on girl, work time'_ I tell myself. Pano wraps my head in so much nonsensical emotion and it almost seems like I am no longer myself. It's intolerable, but strangely refreshing. It's like the 'L' word is stuck to the rough my mouth, and my lips won't be happy until I utter that phrase, _but_ that will have to wait for another day.

Everytime I see his face, I try my best to understand what he is thinking, I try my hardest to understand how he feels about me, but it's no use. I can read almost everyone, reading people in today's society isn't the hardest thing to do, but reading Pano is a whole other matter. He loves me, but in what way exactly? _That_ is where it becomes confusing.

Soon, the lights in the bathroom swith off, throwing me in complete darkness. I groan and wave my arms around like a maniac before they flicker back on. _F*ck technology._

The sound of my young brothers laughing and playing down the hall pipes up and almost drowns out the gut-wrenching sound of _The Hunger Games_ theme tune echoing from the living room. I roll my eyes and quickly pace down to room to see some new victors-reality show on TV.

I plonk down onto the sofa with a sigh. "I really don't know why you watch this nonsense.," I say to my sister, who sits on the chair by the window, legs and arms folded as she texts away on her device.

She shrugs and shines a bright smile in my direction. "You love it".

I shake my head. "No actually. They're 's a bit ridiculous".

"It's life". She stands up and slides over the fridge. "Want a drink?"

"Nah, I need to get going. I'm already late."

"I'm surprised you're not in a rush already."

I shrug. "Dad's in one of his moods again lately. I think the less time I'm with him the better." I laugh.

Mosa smirks. "True that. Anyway-" she chucks me a water bottle. "Take this with you, it's hot out there. And stay out of trouble." She laughs. "In the meantime, let me enjoy my show."

"Yes ma'am" I chuckle. Giving her a two fingered salute, I jump up and head out of the door.

Waiting on the front step is a small white envelope with my name on it. I furrow my brow in confusion. _Why would anyone send me a letter?_ These days, letters are reserved for mostly romantic gestures, and, unless Pano is suddenly expressing his love to me- which I doubt- it can only be some sick practical joke, right?

I fold the letter up and stuff it into my back pocket before running off into the field. I can read it later.

Maybe today can be a good day, no punches, no arguments, no nothing. I just have to stay focused and keep quiet. That's all you can do in this messed up society.

Silence is key, no matter how much people like to pretend it's not.

* * *

"I'm on my way

Can't stop me now

And you can do the same"

* * *

 **Barnaby Hodge | Male | United Kingdom**

My stomach tightens into a knot as I struggle to control my laughter. Mallory and I have been laughing for what seems like almost an hour. The room shakes with our stomachs and our happiness almost drowns out the sounds of hustle and bustle outside. We're both lay on my bed, staring up at the patterned ceiling. The room is full of 'almosts' and 'laziness'. We're surrounded by an array of unfinished paintings, unfinished books, and unfinished projects that scatter across my walls and along my desk. Well, they can't say I've never tried new things. It's completely things that's my main problem.

"So, how did you manage to get sent to his office in the first place?" she asks. She shakes her head in disbelief.

I shrug my shoulders. "Think it was something to do with me not being bothered to do maths, and throwing paper aeroplanes out the window." She giggles softly. "Mr Briggs wasn't too happy about it, which, if I must say is very offensive, because they were best aeoplanes ever made."

Yet again, I manage to send us both off into hysterics. This is why I love saturday's. There isn't a care in the world, you can chill with those you love the most, you don't have to do work, and you can pretend the world is your oyster. There's no expectations, no failures, just you and your friends and a barrel of laughs.

"Has your Dad found out yet?" she asks.

I shake my head. "I haven't seen him since yesterday morning."

Mallory sucks in a sharp but hesitant breath between her teeth. "Well, good luck with that then."

I laugh. "Thank you, I'm sure he's going to as proud as ever." My words are soaked with sarcasm and we both end up giggling once more. We both know he's going to be the exact opposite of _proud_ but he's going to have to just deal with it.

There's a slight knock on the door and for a moment I tense, ever so slightly worried it's my father here to talk about yesterday's airplane-fiasco, but instead my mum walks in with a letter in her hand. She smiles softly. "This is for you Barnaby." She places it on my desk. "I didn't know sending letters was an "in" thing nowadays."

I shrug my shoulders. "Neither did I. Thanks mum!"

Her hand glosses over one of my unfinished projects on my desk and her lips purse into a perfectly straight line. "Why don't you finish this one? I really think you were getting somewhere with it."

I raise a brow. You have to give it to the woman, she tries her best. I sigh. "I don't know, maybe one day." I offer a gentle smile and with that, she vanishes.

Mallory grabs ahold of the letter and furrows her brows. "It's from…" She let's out a little gasp. "Barnaby, you might want to read this." The tone in her voice makes me sit up for the first time since she got here. Her voice is wary, timid, almost as if she's about to tell me my father's died.

"What's up?"

"Just…" she forces it into my hand.

The letter is sealed with an official wax imprint. I have no idea what that means, but by the way Mallory's eyebrows curve together, it must be serious.

She rolls her eyes. "It's the official emblem of Leona Patterson."

I raise my brow again in confusion. _Why is Patterson sending me a letter?_

An exasperated sigh leaves her lips. "You know, the President of…"

"The Hunger Games," I say. "I know." I bite my lip and slowly undo the back. Inside is a ruby red piece of paper, decorated with specks of gold dust. I pull it out and start reading.

" _Dear Mr Barnaby Hodge,_

 _Congratulations! We are writing to announce your selection for the live Hunger Games reapings. You are one of 100 lucky men who will be attending the reapings in the city centre. From the 100 who attend, one lucky young man will be reaped as this year's UK tribute for the Hunger Games."_

I raise my eyes to see Mallory, her face is as pale as snow as her shaky hand covers her mouth. I give her a small smile.

"Chill your beans will ya," I chuckle.

Mallory throws her hands up in the air. "How can you be so chill, this- this is serious Barnaby."

I laugh and place a hand on her shoulder. "Mal… 99 other guys in the UK have received this same letter this year. It's fine. In fact, it's great!"

She takes a deep breath and nods. "You're right. I'm sorry." Her voice remains shaky, but her fixated gaze is replaced with a wary smile.

I laugh and slightly nudge her shoulder. "You weirdo." I carry on reading.

" _You can bring one family member or friend to accompany you to the reapings. A member of our team will come to escort you at 10am on Wednesday 13th of April._

 _Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favour._

 _President Leona Patterson."_

I'm grinning as I finish reading the last line. "This is cool," I say. How many people get an opportunity like this? To attend such a prestigious event- something most people will only ever see on TV. "Do you want to come with me?" I ask Mallory.

"Shouldn't one of your parents go?"

I shrug my shoulders. "I want you to come. Come on," I laugh, "I'll be fun."

"But Barnaby, what if?..."

"I won't, ok? Things like that don't happen to guys like me. Plus there's a 1% chance, ok?"

She nods, before bursting out in laughter.

"What?" I ask.

"Did Mr Hodge just do maths?"

I laugh. "Maybe I did. So you'll come?"

Mallory nods. "As long as your stupid butt doesn't die."

"I won't, it'll just be a fun little road trip for me and my best friend."

And that's all I hoped it would be. Perhaps I was naive to think that, but the chances were so small, how was I to know what was really coming for me?

* * *

" _You could be so many people  
If you make that break for freedom  
What have you done today to make you feel proud?"_

* * *

 ** _Proud- Heather Small_**

* * *

 **Questions:**

 **Thoughts on each tribute?**

 **Placement predictions?**  
 **How would you feel if you got a letter?**

* * *

Boom! Ok, remember, i have at least two openings for tributes sooo message meeeee! Please reviewwwww! Adios!

Next chapter should be up in the next couple weeks at the most.


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